


Aconite

by Why_so_drama



Series: Dragonwell [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, Quidditch players, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:10:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Why_so_drama/pseuds/Why_so_drama
Summary: Malkin looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes and what appear to be half-healed scratches over his face and neck. The sleeves of his sweater cover his hands where they're balled in his lap, his whole body tense.“As you have undoubtedly heard, Mr. Crosby, we have a new student,” Rutherford says with one of his inscrutable smiles. “I wanted you to meet him first, since he's interested in joining the quidditch team, but also for another reason.”





	Aconite

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to the [heart potion fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13699563). 
> 
> Geno's previous school is Koldovstoretz, which exists in HP canon, except we're going with them playing quidditch normally instead of flying entire trees, because what even. Dragonwell is our own creation, because wizards need higher education too.

Sid has been chirped from the moment they found out that Evgeni Malkin, following his disappearance from a summer training camp, had turned up at Dragonwell. It's not like his admiration of arguably the best Chaser in both Koldovstoretz _and_ the Russian junior national team is a secret. Malkin is a beast to play against, and Sid is usually glad that their teams are in separate divisions. Now he wonders if there's a chance they might actually play on the same line.

The whole school seems to be buzzing with gossip after someone recognized the student that Headmaster Rutherford was seen greeting in person. That had been this morning, and the speculation still hasn't died down by dinner. Even Sid can't help occasionally looking around for some sign of Malkin, but nobody has seen him since.

“We are _definitely_ winning the Cup this year,” Dumo says during dessert. He's immediately shushed by at least half of the team, and Sid has to smile. He hopes so too, even if he'll never say it out loud.

He decides to check up on some of his projects after dinner and is heading to his lab when Professor Gonchar waves him down.

“Sidney! A moment, please.”

Gonch hadn't been at dinner, and is also Russian. Sid tries not to jump to conclusions. It might show on his face anyway, because Gonch looks like he's trying not to smile.

“The headmaster would like to see you.”

Sid trails Gonch to Rutherford’s office where, sure enough, Evgeni Malkin is waiting. He looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes and what appear to be half-healed scratches over his face and neck. The sleeves of his sweater cover his hands where they're balled in his lap, his whole body tense.

Concerned, Sid glances at the headmaster, who gestures for him to sit. Gonch moves to stand next to Malkin’s chair, laying a hand on his shoulder and murmuring something in Russian. Malkin relaxes by a fraction and looks at Sid curiously.

“As you have undoubtedly heard, Mr. Crosby, we have a new student,” Rutherford says with one of his inscrutable smiles. “I wanted you to meet him first, since he's interested in joining the quidditch team, but also for another reason.” He glances at Malkin, who nods, before continuing. “Considering that your area of specialization is the wolfsbane potion, I feel that you're uniquely qualified to help Mr. Malkin with his lycanthropy.”

Sid blinks as a few pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Werewolves are unwelcome throughout most of the wizarding world, Russia in particular. The Russian Ministry of Magic's recent crackdown on a rogue pack had made news around the world. Malkin’s expression is stony, like he's waiting for judgement, but the last thing Sid would do is refuse. Not for something like this.

“Of course,” he says. “I’m happy to help. We look forward to having you on the team.”

Malkin glances at Gonch before directing a tentative smile at Sid. “Thank you,” he says, voice quiet and unexpectedly deep. Sid has never heard him off the quidditch pitch. “I'm happy to come here.”

Sid smiles back and holds out a hand, which Malkin shakes. His hand is enormous, and the sleeve of his sweater pulls a little to expose a wide ring of red, irritated skin around his wrist.

“What-” Sid stares, and then startles when Malkin yanks his hand back. “Sorry! Sorry, I'm being really rude, but those look like silver burns?”

“How you know?” Malkin rumbles.

That isn't Sid's story to tell. “I've seen them before,” he says instead. “I- I have a salve that helps, if you want.”

Malkin looks a little suspicious. “Yes,” he says after a moment.

“Excellent,” says Rutherford. “Mr. Crosby, if you would please brew the Wolfsbane potion in time for the next full moon? We will, of course, help you procure the ingredients, and compensate you for the work.”

Sid shakes his head. “That's not necessary, my funding should cover everything. Besides, if you want to play for the Ridgebacks, that’s more than enough reason to help,” he admits, glancing sheepishly at Malkin.

Rutherford laughs and Gonch murmurs what must be a translation. They go over some more general details of Malkin’s transfer to Dragonwell, including the classes he’ll take. It doesn’t sound like he and Sid will be sharing any. Malkin’s focus is on the care and conservation of magical creatures, with an emphasis, rather appropriately, on dragons.

When they are finally dismissed, Gonch suggests that Sid show Malkin around the common areas, as well as the way back to his assigned dormitory.

“Salve first?” Sid suggests, miming rubbing at his own wrists.

Malkin nods and follows as Sid leads the way towards his laboratory. “You make too?” he asks curiously.

“Kind of. Some of the werewolves I work with have had problems with silver. Olli --Maatta, one of our Beaters-- he’s got more of a background in Herbology and helped me out.”

He’s about to ask how Malkin got those specific burns when they turn into a hallway lined with suits of armour. Flower is on tiptoes next to one, tucking something inside a helmet and patting it with a grin before lowering the visor.

“I'm gonna have to find a way around here, aren't I?” Sid says dryly.

Flower, to his credit, doesn't even try to look like he isn't up to something. “Maaaybe,” he says, before staring wide eyed at Malkin. “Dude, you're actually here. Wow.”

“Yes, now no more sparkle,” Malkin replies with a grin.

Flowers laughs delightedly and Sid snorts, remembering the exhibition game against Koldovstoretz during their first year. Flower had stashed a glitter bomb in his quidditch gear to pull a prank in the locker room after the game. It had exploded during the game instead, when the quaffle bounced hard off him during a save, and ended up covering him and his broom in glitter. The match hadn't stopped because Flower was more startled than hurt. Koldovstoretz had eventually lost, not least because it was hard to score through the glare of Flower sparkling in the sun as he darted between the goal posts.

“Yeah, now you'll have to deal with a whole lot more,” Sid tells Malkin, gesturing at the armour.

Flower beams. “Oh it's perfectly safe. For now. Where are you going?”

Sid hesitates, but Malkin fills in for him. “Captain of new team, so he show me around. Big place, I'm have hard time find room again.”

“Always the good captain, eh? Which dorm are you in?”

Malkin makes a face. “Tower room? But lots of tower here.”

Sid tries to think of some way to dissuade Flower from tagging along. If he finds out they’re going to Sid’s lab, there will be all sorts of questions, and Sid isn’t about to spill Malkin’s secret. Or open himself to teasing about whisking the new guy off to his ‘parlour’, as Flower calls it.

Before he can come up with anything plausible, Tanger appears from the other end of the hallway, hollering in French. “Marc-André, you have some fucking explaining to do! Olli borrowed my shampoo and it turned his hair into actual _feathers_.”

Flower wheels around. “I swear that was Pascal!”

Tanger strides closer, the look on his face making it clear that he doesn’t believe a word. “We can talk about who did it later. Olli won't stop sneezing, he's allergic or something.”

“Ah. I think I remember the cure?” Flower muses, but Tanger’s attention has shifted to Malkin, who looks baffled at all the rapid fire French.

“Huh. So you _are_ here.” Tanger switches to English and eyes Malkin like he's sizing him up for a fight.

“Yes.” Malkin stares back, all traces of amusement gone. Sid doesn't recall any particularly bad blood there but steps between them anyway, not bothering to be subtle.

“Yeah he is. He'll meet the team tomorrow. You better go see to Olli, eh? Come on.”

Sid plucks at Malkin’s sleeve, carefully above the wrist, and leads them past whatever trap Flower set up without incident. Behind them, Tanger’s indignation resumes that Flower would prank _him_ and how they really can’t afford to lose a Beater to _allergies_ of all things.

“They always like that?” Malkin asks, bemused.

Before Sid can reply, there’s a low growl that seems to come from the vicinity of Malkin’s stomach. “Whoa. When was the last time you ate?”

Malkin flushes. “I’m sleep after get here. Headmaster give some biscuit and tea before you come.”

That won’t do at all. Every werewolf Sid knows is a bottomless pit when it comes to food. So are most quidditch players. Malkin is both, and biscuits and tea would have hardly taken the edge off, especially after traveling. Dinner is over, though, and it’ll take too long to go all the way back to the kitchens.

“Okay, we’ll sort that out in a minute. This way,” Sid says, leading him up another staircase and along the side corridor leading to the smaller labs. His is at the very end, and thankfully not shared with anyone else.

Pulling out his wand, Sid unlocks the door and gestures for Malkin to take a seat on the squashy couch in the corner. Lighting one of the burners with another tap of his wand, Sid finds his box of Floo powder and sprinkles some into the flames. “Kitchen.”

A familiar house elf head appears. “Good evening, Mr. Crosby! How can we help you?”

“Hey, Noddy. Could you send some dinner up to the lab please? There’s a new student who just missed it.”

“Of course, sir. Anything else?”

“No, that’s all, thanks. Oh, don’t let Dumo stay too long okay?”

Noddy sighs. “We will try, sir.”

“Dumo?” Malkin asks curiously, as the fire flickers out.

“Dumoulin, another one of our Beaters.” Sid pokes around various shelves and drawers, trying to remember where he had put the salve. “He's majoring in culinary magic, gets inspired to try new dishes at weird hours. It stresses out the house elves sometimes.”

Malkin makes a thoughtful noise. “Interesting team.”

“Oh, for sure.”

Sid makes a triumphant noise when he finds the tin he's looking for, and drags over a stool to sit in front of Malkin. The salve is pale green and cool to the touch. Malkin holds out a wrist and Sid dabs it on the burns as gently as possible.

“It'll take a few weeks for it to heal completely, but it will,” he promises.

“Thank you,” Malkin says quietly, rolling up his other sleeve.

Sid applies salve to the other wrist as well. He wants to ask how the burns had happened, though it isn't hard to guess. Shackles wouldn't be a problem for most werewolves, but silver ones would definitely hurt, even if Malkin had somehow freed himself.

“Where you see before?” Malkin asks as Sid is putting the lid back on the tin.

He doesn't like talking to people about Taylor's lycanthropy. It had made much of their childhood difficult, and he'll never forget the angry red line around her neck after their Muggle grandmother had unknowingly given her a silver necklace. Sid hadn't been able to do much for her then, but it's different now.

“I make wolfsbane regularly for a few people. Some of them didn't know about silver causing burns.”

Malkin looks intrigued. “Maybe I meet sometime?”

Sid thinks about it. Other than Taylor --who would probably be thrilled to meet someone else like her-- he hasn't always met his clients face to face. Cullen, maybe. He’s always been nice, and extremely patient with Sid's efforts to customize the potion for each person.

“Maybe,” he says. “I'll ask.”

Any more conversation is interrupted by the appearance of the dinner tray. It's piled high with a little bit of everything and Malkin descends on it like he's starving, which he probably is. Sid takes the time to check on his projects, including the large cauldron of wolfsbane potion simmering in a corner of the room. The full moon isn’t for another two weeks, so he has time to refine each dose. He updates his calendar with a reminder to start a new batch anyway, so there will be enough for Malkin when the time comes.

“Hey,” Malkin says after a while, sounding like he’s talking with his mouth full. “You make only wolfsbane, or other potion too?

They end up having a pretty decent conversation about Sid’s other projects, which include helping to replenish the hospital wing’s stock of pepper-up potion, and an ongoing effort to make the healing draught given for most quidditch injuries taste less like old socks. _Worst_ , as Malkin puts it.

When all the food is gone and Malkin looks like he might fall asleep right there on the couch, Sid ushers him up and they set off to look for the correct tower dormitory. The best description Malkin can give is that he gets a good view of the giant dragon statue on the roof. That narrows it down somewhat, and Sid spends the walk explaining that nobody seems to know why the dragon is there; whether it was part of the design when the school was built, or an actual dragon turned to stone. Whatever the reason, it had inspired both the name of the school and it’s quidditch team.

Thankfully, Malkin starts to recognize his surroundings a little and is able to find his room. Sid would gladly keep discussing whether the dragon really is a Norwegian Ridgeback or not, but it’s getting late and he should let Malkin rest.

“You can tell me more at breakfast. Good night, uh-- Evgeni? Is that how you pronounce it?”

Malkin smiles, and Sid knows that he probably got it wrong, but finds himself smiling back anyway.

“I have Canadian teammate in Koldov, he call me Geno. Maybe more easy?”

It is, but Sid's going to get it right eventually. “Sure, Geno. I'm-- we're really excited to have you here.”

Geno glances down at his wrists. “I'm happy to come here,” he echoes from earlier. “Thank you for help, Sidney.”

He holds out a hand and Sid shakes it. It feels more significant than just welcoming a new teammate. He has the feeling that this is the start of something good.

“Any time.”

**Author's Note:**

> We're around on [tumblr](https://why-so-drama.tumblr.com/), and also have a ton of headcanons about this AU, so feel free to ask anything. :)


End file.
